Facing the Future, Reliving the Past
by Hermione-G-Weasley
Summary: Rated R for future chapters. In this story, we see an older, married Hermione being forced to deal with her past as a witch while facing an uncertain future.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: This is something I started awhile back. I'd just like to know if it's worth continuing. Please, let me know. It takes place in the future, and things will explain themselves as the story moves on. Please read and reply!  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Harry Potter.  
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Emileen Granger sat in her bedroom quietly, listening to the commotion downstairs. She hated this- having to pretend to be sleeping while she listened to her mother and her step-father fighting. It scared her, and sometimes she even cried. The voices carried easily through the old Victorian style house, and Emileen could hear every word exactly as it was being said, or rather yelled.   
"Tom, calm down!" came her mother's pleading voice. It was answered by the shrill sound of step-father's voice.   
"Calm down!? You can't even keep this dump clean, and you want me to calm down?!"   
"There's nothing wrong with the house! It's as clean as it's ever been!"   
"I don't know how the hell I expect you to keep the house decent when you let yourself go around looking like something the cat dragged in!"   
They continued to fight, and Emileen continued to cower in her room, frightened. Why did he have to treat her like this? She deserved so much better, but she just couldn't see it. Emileen was sometimes ashamed of her mother; she didn't understand how someone could just let another person treat them the way that Tom treated her mom. Emileen had never asked any of her friends over to spend the night because she didn't want anyone knowing what went on in her house each and every night.   
Tears sprung into her clear gray eyes as she heard her step-father threaten her mother.   
"If you don't shut up, I'll shut you up myself!" he bellowed. Then the crash came. It sounded as though glass were breaking from below, and she heard her mom's suddenly weakened voice begging for mercy.   
"Please! Tom," she let out a small yell. "Please, you'll wake the children!" Her plea was followed by an even louder yell, and Emileen shuddered to think about what he was doing to her.   
She hated him. She wanted him to die. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt as though she were about to burst from the hatred coursing through her veins for the man she had to call a step-father.   
And then suddenly it happened.   
With a loud scream from her mother and a huge shock to Emileen as well, all the lights in the house went out suddenly with a huge popping sound. She heard her step-father curse loudly, and then she heard the back door slam as he went to investigate the sudden power outage.   
Why was this always happening? Emileen almost felt as though she had made it happen. She had felt the same way when Tom had fallen down the same stairs he was backing her mother down and broken his leg. But that was impossible. There was no way she could cause these things. She was only ten years old.   
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Hermione Winston lay in her bedroom crying, as she had so many nights before. He had hurt her again, though not as badly as he had on certain occasions. There was a pain above her right eye where the glass from the lamp had hit her when it had shattered against the wall, and her arm was throbbing in the place he had grabbed when he jerked her roughly to her feet. But still she was fine, and he was gone for the night, probably back to the same pub he had been at before.   
A soft knock at her door caused her to jump slightly. She reached up and wiped the last of her tears away before calling to the knocker. "Come in."   
A pair of tiny gray eyes peered in at her from the doorway. A timid girl with shining blonde hair stepped into the bedroom quietly. It was her daughter, Emileen.   
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked warmly, trying her best to hide the tears that were still fresh on her cheeks.   
Emileen walked to her mother's bedside. "May I climb in?" she asked softly.   
Hermione smiled and pulled back the bed sheets, so her daughter could climb in with her. Once Emileen was tucked under her arm, and she was playing with her golden locks, she asked, "Did you have a nightmare?"   
Her fears were confirmed when the little girl shook her head and snuggled closer to her. "No. I heard you and Tom fighting."   
Hermione closed her eyes. Her greatest fear had always been that her two young children could hear them from upstairs. Putting on the bravest front she could, she said, "Darling, it was just an argument."   
"All the lights went out," Emileen stated clearly.   
"Well, I know, Emmy, but that was just a power outage. It happens all the time; I'm sure everything will be fixed by tomorrow." Hermione twirled her daughter's hair through her fingers as she spoke.   
"I did it." Emileen stared up at her mother suddenly.   
"You did what?"   
"I made the lights go out." Her eyes were wide with what looked like a mix of confusion and fear. "I closed my eyes and wished for something to happen to make the fighting stop, and it did. I did it."   
Hermione closed her own eyes at this statement. She refused to believe that it was true; she had worked so hard to shield her children from anything like this. Surely, if she refused to recognize the obvious facts, they would have to disappear. This was not happening.   
"You're imagining things," Hermione said flatly, turning away from her daughter.   
"But Mum, I didn't imagine it." Her strong British accent was laced with an urgency, a need to be believed. "I really made it happen. Haven't you ever done things you can't explain?"   
"Go to bed, Emileen." Hermione sat up and pulled the covers away from her daughter.   
"But..."   
"Now!" Hermione hadn't meant to yell, but she could not deal with this right now.   
Emileen looked up at her mother curiously, but then got out of the bed, muttering, "Yes, ma'am," and retreated from the room.   
Hermione watched her daughter go and then laid her head carefully back down on the pillow. Why was this happening? She couldn't let her daughter know the truth; there was too much at risk.   
Hermione thought back to herself at Emileen's age and remembered what it was like to be so confused when something strange happened that couldn't be explained. That was, of course, before she had gotten the letter that had changed her life forever- the letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.   
The years spent at Hogwarts had been the best years of her life. They were the only times in her life that she ever remembered being truly happy. So much of her happiness was due to two people whom she still thought about daily and nightly without fail, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. They were her two closest friends in the world, and she didn't know how she would have survived all those years at school without them. She had even dated Ron for a short bit of their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. He was the only person who had ever made her happy in a romantic sort of way. And she missed that. She missed them.   
But she had put all of that behind her ten years ago when she had become pregnant with her first child. When she realized that Emileen was going to be born, she had made the decision to leave the wizarding world all together. It wasn't because she wanted to; it was because she had to. If she hadn't disappeared when she did, she would have put not only herself in danger, but her child in mortal danger as well.   
So, she had left the wizarding world behind without so much as a good-bye to Harry, Ron, or any of her other friends. She had to leave. For Emileen's sake.   
"Damn Draco Malfoy," she said out loud suddenly. "Damn him to hell for what he did to us."   
Draco Malfoy had been Hermione's greatest enemy since the moment she had stepped her eleven year old feet into Hogwarts all those years ago. He hated Hermione, Ron, and Harry with unmentionable passion, and the feeling was quite mutual. She still remembered the first time he had called her a Mudblood when she had been barely twelve years old. It was the first time she had ever heard the expression, but it was nowhere near close to the last. A Mudblood was a Muggle (or non-magic) born witch or wizard, and since no one in her family had ever been a witch or a wizard before, Hermione fit the name well. Although, it wasn't exactly a nice thing to say; in fact, it was one of the most offensive terms in the wizarding world. Malfoy's family had a history of being Death Eaters, wizards who hunt down Muggle-born witches and wizards and kill them, so it was only natural that Malfoy was to follow trait. In their final years at Hogwarts, the Dark Side had grown more and more powerful, and the Death Eaters were closing in on all the Muggle-borns. Hermione was an obvious target for another reason besides her Muggle-born heritage; she was Harry Potter's best friend. Harry was responsible for the near-demise of the Dark Lord Voldemort when he was only a baby, and he was naturally the most hated wizard amongst the Dark Side.   
In their seventh year at Hogwarts, though, something almost worse than death happened to Hermione. Draco Malfoy had raped her. He had viciously and maliciously raped her, and there was no doubt in Hermione's head that he was going to kill her not long afterwards. She had been utterly ashamed and too embarrassed to tell even Ron or Harry about the incident. She hadn't told anyone about the attack then, but when she had found out that she was pregnant with his child, she knew that she had to run. If the Dark Side had found out that she was carrying Malfoy's child, they would undoubtedly have taken her baby and either killed it or raised it to be a Death Eater. She couldn't let either of those things happen, so she had then made the decision to cut herself off from the wizarding world entirely. Since then, she had never muttered a word about any of it to anyone, and she didn't want her children getting involved in what would surely be grave danger for them.   
So, she had run away from everything she knew at the tender age of eighteen. Six years later, she had met a lawyer by the name of Tom Winston who had married her. Soon afterwards, they had a boy named Kyle, and soon after that, he had begun beating her. He had been beating her for years now, and she still stood and took it. It would do her no good to try and run because she had nowhere to run to. She had no friends to call, and she had even cut herself off from her family because it would be too dangerous for them to know where she was. So, she stayed with Tom, and her life was hell.   
Hell was about to get a little worse, though, because her worst fear was coming true.   
Emileen Granger was most definitely a witch. It wouldn't be long before she would have to face that fact straight on.   
  
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Please leave feedback and suggestions! Oh, yeah, it's really difficult for me to write Malfoy as a sadistic rapist since I have such a HUGE soft spot for him. 


	2. It Won't Be Long

A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry this installment took so long to get out, but I've been working quite diligently on my Draco/Hermione story. I'm still claiming Ron and Hermione as my ship of choice, though, so don't worry! Draco/Hermione is just more fun if you want to write smut... Anyway, please let me know what you think of this and if you're still interested! Thanks again!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't any of the characters that are mentioned anywhere in any of the Harry Potter book series. So please do not sue me. Thank you kindly.  
  
  
Hermione awoke the next morning to find that the power problem had been fixed. The digital clock that rested beside her bed was blinking annoyingly at 12:00. She quickly glanced at her watch and reached over to set the clock to the proper time: 6:43 AM.   
  
6:43...   
  
She jumped out of bed quickly and raced up the stairs to her eldest child's room. Emileen was sleeping peacefully under her yellow canopy coverings, her blonde hair splayed across her pillows in a rather unruly manner.  
  
"Emmy," she prodded, shaking her daughter gently. "Emmy, wake up."  
  
The little girl rolled over and groaned. Her eyes opened slowly to reveal silvery-blue orbs. "Mum, I don't feel well," she managed to croak.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You are going to school," she declared as she pulled the matching yellow comforter away from her child. Emileen was not nearly as eager to learn as she had been at that age.  
  
Emmy groaned again and sat up rather slowly. "Please, Mama. I really honestly don't feel well." She gave her mother a pitiful look with huge, pleading eyes.  
  
Hermione reached out to test her daughter's forehead and was met with absolutely cool skin. "You aren't running a fever."  
  
"But my tummy hurts," she whined.  
  
Hermione looked sternly at the little girl. "Emileen, if you are lying to me, you will be in big trouble."  
  
Emileen remembered the last time she had conned her mother into letting her stay home when she hadn't really been ill. Her mum had caught her dancing to the radio while she was supposed to be resting with a sore throat. She hadn't been able to sit properly for hours after that.  
  
But she figured she could get away with it if she weren't so stupid this time.  
  
"I'm not lying," she declared, her eyes wide with feigned honesty. "It really hurts."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Fine. Lie back down, and I'll go get you some medicine."  
  
Emileen nodded and followed her mother's directions by lying back down in her bed and closing her eyes. Hermione watched her for half a moment before getting up and exiting the room. She walked back down the stairs to the kitchen where she opened a cabinet and pulled out a small bottle of pink liquid. She smiled softly, thinking how different this remedy was from the ones that had been forced on her for seven years of her life. Who would ever have known that chocolate was as good of a cure for a stomachache as anything? Putting the bottle back into the cabinet, she turned the heat of her stove on and set a pan of milk on it to boil. As the tiny bubbles started to reach the surface, she filled a mug with powdered cocoa and added the milk.   
  
As Hermione carried the steaming mug of hot chocolate back up the stairs to her daughter's room, she peaked into the room of her little boy. Her three year old son Kyle was still sleeping peacefully in his toddler bed. She decided against waking him that early and continued onto Emileen's room.  
  
Emmy looked up at her as she crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Holding the mug out, she said, "Here, drink this."  
  
Emmy took the mug and stared at it curiously. "Hot chocolate?" she queried.  
  
"Just drink it."   
  
Emileen secretly complimented herself on a brilliant plan that didn't even result in the nasty tasting pink stuff her mother usually forced down her throat. She lifted the mug to her lips and smiled slightly as the warm liquid coated her throat.  
  
After swallowing, she looked back up at her mum. "The power's back," she observed.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Yes, it is."  
  
"I did it." Emileen implored her mother to believe her.  
  
But Hermione just shook her head. "No, you didn't. Now stop talking about it." There was a definite tone of finalization to her voice, but either Emileen did not hear it or either she did not care.  
  
"Yes, I did. I do a lot of things like that." Her gray eyes were widened, "And sometimes it scares me."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes briefly. She could not deal with this. "Emileen, I am not telling you again. Drop this nonsense right..."  
  
"You know, don't you?" The tiny girl suddenly stared up at her mother accusingly. "You know, and you won't admit it."  
  
Hermione was a bit shocked at her daughter's sudden accusation, but she quickly recovered. "You will not talk to me like that, do you understand?"  
  
Emileen did not care. "You do. You know what I'm talking about, and you're lying."  
  
Hermione didn't know whether to punish her child or commend her for unfaltering claims. "You are this close to being in big trouble, do you know that?"  
  
"What are you so afraid of?" Emileen set the mug of hot chocolate on her nightstand and, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to be ill, got onto her knees and looked her mother directly in the eye. "Why won't you tell me?"  
  
"There is nothing to tell!" Hermione's voice had suddenly taken on a rather loud urgency. "You are making up silly nonsense, and you know I do not approve of that."  
  
"But Mum, I'm not making it up! I really did make it happen, and I've done it before, too! It's almost like... like magic!"  
  
Hermione flinched at the word. She hated lying to her daughter like this, but it was for her own good. "You do not live in a fairytale world, Emileen. This is real life. There is no such thing as magic."  
  
Emileen just stared up at her mother curiously for a moment before saying very clearly, "Yes, there is. And you know it."  
  
Hermione was in a near stare-down with her ten year old child. "Go to sleep. I'm going to check on your brother."  
  
"Wait!" Emileen was out of the bed before Hermione could protest. She hurried across her room to a small trunk, and she lifted the lid easily, removing what appeared to be a small piece of paper. "What is this?"  
  
She handed the paper to her mother who reluctantly turned it over and gasped. Staring back up at Hermione was a younger version of herself standing between two boys, one with dark hair and glasses and the other much taller with red hair and freckles. It was a photograph.  
  
And it was moving.  
  
"Where did you get this?" Hermione demanded of her daughter as soon as he had gotten over the initial shock.  
  
Emileen suddenly appeared quite nervous. "I... um... I..."  
  
"Where did you get it?" Hermione demanded again, this time louder.  
  
"I found it in your room. I wasn't snooping!" she added quickly. "But I needed a pen, so I checked in your desk, and this was in the very back, so I... so I took it." She looked sheepishly up at her mum. "Why is it moving like that? And who are those boys?"  
  
Hermione stared at the faces which were grinning up at her. She had missed those two faces more than she had ever thought possible, and seeing them again was like looking at two ghosts. She turned to her daughter and fiercely said, "Lie back down. If I hear one peep out of you, you will be punished, and then you will go to school. Do you understand?"  
  
Emileen nodded obediently, obviously knowing not to push her mother anymore than she already had that morning. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
She climbed back under her comforter and watched her mother silently exit the room for the second time. She felt warm tears creep into her eyes. Why had her mum gotten so upset?  
  
Why was she lying?  
  
She knew Emileen was causing all of these things, and she wouldn't admit it. What was she hiding? Why wouldn't she just be honest?  
  
Emileen cried softly as she drifted back into an early morning slumber.  
  
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Hermione stared at the photograph in her hand for hours. Memory upon memory came flooding back to her.  
  
She remembered meeting them for the first time on the Hogwarts Express when she was only ten years old. She remembered the first time they had ever saved her life while battling a twelve-foot mountain troll. She remembered the first time she had ever saved their lives with her extensive knowledge of Herbology. She remembered the horrible feeling that had filled her when she had thought briefly that her two best friends were being expelled for crashing a flying car onto the school's grounds. She remembered spending a month crunched into a tiny bathroom stall with the two of them and a crying ghost while mixing up a terribly difficult potion. She remembered being dragged underground with the two of them and being faced with an escaped prisoner who just happened to be a convicted murderer thirteen times over. She remembered how awful it felt when the two boys were fighting and she was stuck in the middle and how wonderful it had felt when they had finally put their differences behind them and forgiven each other. She remembered how terrifying their last years at school had been while the Dark Lord Voldemort was gaining power and closing in on his main target which seemed to be the wonderful little trio she had belonged to.   
  
And, of course, she remembered Ron for other reasons as well. She remembered the way it had felt when he had kissed her for the first time during Christmas break of their final year at school. She remembered the way his eyes had been welling with unconscious tears as he stuttered about and told her for the first time that he was in love with her. She remembered the way their hands fit perfectly into each others.  
  
She remembered everything.  
  
And God, how she missed it. She missed everything about Ron, and she missed everything about Harry. She hadn't seen them in ten years.   
  
She didn't even know if they were still alive...  
  
No, she refused to believe that they might be dead. They had made it through seven years of dangerous feats without getting themselves killed, now didn't they? She wondered exactly where they were and what they were doing.   
  
She pictured Harry married to Ron's little sister Ginny and smiled. They had dated for the last two years of school, and they'd been absolutely perfect together. She wondered if that had worked out, and if they were indeed married. The smile grew broader as she pictured a houseful of tiny redheads running around their parents.  
  
Then the smile faded.   
  
She was supposed to have a house full of redheads, too. But she didn't. She had a brown-haired, brown-eyed little boy and a blonde-haired, gray-eyed daughter. It was the second of the two that bothered her. Not that she didn't love her children; she loved them more than life itself. But she couldn't pretend that she didn't see Draco Malfoy staring back at her every time she looked into her daughter's eyes. She had even contemplated dying Emileen's hair just so she wouldn't have to stare at the silvery-blonde silk flowing gracefully down her back, but she had quickly realized that this was a stupid idea. The eyes would always be there, and there was nothing she could do to change that.  
  
But she couldn't allow herself to think about what might have been between her and Ron. Ten years had passed- ten long years. He was probably married with a load of children by now. It didn't matter anyway. She knew for a fact that she was married with children, and that certainly wasn't changing anytime soon. She would just have to force herself not to dwell on the past and what might have been.  
  
But she realized that before long she was going to have to face her past head-on. She might have thought that she had done a good enough job of keeping herself hidden from the wizarding world for the past decade, but she knew as well as anyone that you couldn't stay invisible forever. Her daughter's name had been down on Hogwarts acceptance list since the moment she was born despite Hermione's denial, and this September Emileen would be expected to show up at Platform 9 3/4 whether Hermione liked it or not.   
  
But that would mean that everything from Hermione's past would soon be put on display for the entire wizarding world. Emileen's paternity would come out. The news that Hermione Granger had a daughter at Hogwarts would spread like wildfire. And she'd have to face it all.  
  
She'd have to face her old Professors. She'd have to face her old classmates. She'd have to face her parents. She'd have to face Draco Malfoy.  
  
And she'd have to face Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. 


	3. Facing the Past

A/N: THANK YOU to all who left feedback for the last chapter! You guys are the best!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter, so don't sue me.  
  
  
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Hermione Winston stared out of the window of the townhouse she had lived in for the past few years. She was thankful that Kyle had went down for his nap early, and she was even more thankful that Emileen had not so much as uttered a peep since she had left her in her room earlier that morning. She was in no mood to answer any of her daughter's questions.  
  
Emileen knew too much as it was.  
  
She couldn't quite believe that the ten year old had been hiding that picture of her and her best friends in a trunk. Emileen may not have been the studious book lover that Hermione was, but she wasn't stupid by any means. She was intelligent enough to know that something wasn't right about that picture. She was intelligent enough to know that the only possible explanation for a moving picture like that was quite simply magic.  
  
Magic.  
  
Hermione had done her best for the past ten years to not think of the word too much. It was difficult. Not a day had passed since her graduation that she hadn't thought of Ron and Harry. But she tried her best to focus on the memories that did not involve so much of the supernatural world she had come to accept during her seven years as a practicing witch. Thinking of magic made her think of the danger she had so narrowly escaped before her first child was born.  
  
Thinking of magic made her think of Draco Malfoy.  
  
Damn Malfoy and all of his Death Eater shit. She wasn't stupid. She knew that Malfoy had raped her only out of a need to prove that he had some sort of perverted power over something that Harry Potter depended on. She was a bit surprised that he hadn't killed her immediately after taking her most precious gift from her. Back then, she wished that he had. She'd wanted nothing more than to die after he'd abused her body in that horrible way. In fact, if Malfoy had tried to kill her after that, she was quite positive that she wouldn't have even tried to fight him.  
  
She wanted to die.  
  
She was so hurt. So humiliated. So ashamed that she had allowed Draco Malfoy to put not only his hands on her body but to put his entire self on her body. He'd stolen her innocence from her, and that was a more painful thought than she cared to relive. She'd lost that which she had silently promised to Ron to their worst enemy, and that was enough to shame her into her desire for death.  
  
But then she'd found out that she was pregnant. She still remembered the day the horrible reality had sunk in. The way she'd felt when Malfoy had raped her was nothing compared to the way she felt when she realized that she now had a part of him growing inside of her. She was carrying his child. To her, that was as bad as carrying the demon spawn- in a way, she felt that she actually was carrying the demon spawn. He was inside of her. His vicious little offspring was growing and thriving inside of her body.  
  
She'd wanted to kill it.  
  
Hermione winced at the memories she was suddenly reliving. She hadn't thought about these things in so long, and it was proving to be rather difficult. Guilt was pouring over her.  
  
Yes, she'd wanted to kill her child.  
  
She'd searched every book she could find, and to her dismay, there was nothing in any of them about using magic to make a baby disappear. She'd then started looking into all the ways that Muggles used to dispose of unwanted pregnancies. Abortion seemed to be the only option, and she'd made an appointment without the tiniest feeling of guilt. How was she expected to feel guilty when she was saving the world from yet another evil little Malfoy brat?  
  
Two days before her appointment, though, things had changed. The baby had kicked. And Hermione, for the first time, realized that she couldn't go through with terminating her pregnancy. Even though the baby inside of her was half Malfoy, it was half Granger as well. And Hermione made up her mind right then and there that the baby would be born, but it would never know its father, and it would never know the world in which its parents had become acquainted.   
  
The first time she'd held the precious little bundle that was her daughter, Hermione had fallen in love. She'd never known that being a mother could cause such wonderful feelings to erupt inside of a woman. Emileen was absolutely perfect, and Hermione had never once regretted her decision to keep the child.  
  
But now her plan was swaying off-course. She should have known that she couldn't hide her daughter from the world that she was destined to be raised in. It wasn't fair to hide the truth from Emileen any longer. The child needed honesty, and Hermione made up her mind that she would stop with the lies and tell Emileen everything she needed to know. It was only fair.  
  
But first, there were a few things Hermione needed to do.   
  
Taking a deep breath, she reached for the telephone and dialed 0. She closed her eyes and held her breath while the operator asked for the city she would be needing the assistance of. It was an off-chance, but it was all she had to go on.   
  
"London."  
  
"Listing?"  
  
Hermione took a deep breath. "Potter. Harry Potter."  
  
It seemed like an eternity while the operator searched, and Hermione was positive that her only lead had turned into a dead-end. Harry had obviously given up his Muggle heritage and decided to live completely in the wizarding world. The only reason she'd thought differently was the fact that she knew he was planning to move to Muggle London after graduation. Of course, she hadn't seen him since, so she had no idea what had become of that plan.  
  
But then the operator's voice returned and gave her a telephone number and address. "Can I be of any other assistance?"  
  
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she jotted the information down onto a sheet of paper. "Um... No, thank you."  
  
She hung up the telephone and stared at the paper in front of her. It was time to start facing her past.  
  
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She'd left Kyle and Emmy with Mrs. Bennett, the elderly lady from next door. Tom wasn't due to be home until late that evening, so she didn't have to worry about him coming home and finding her gone. Thank God.  
  
The trip to London didn't take very long; she was used to making the trip into the city for shopping and other reasons. And before she knew it, she was turning her car onto the street whose name was reflected on the piece of paper that rested on the car seat beside her.  
  
"367," she said to herself as she peered at the house numbers. 365... 366... 367.  
  
It was a blue house that looked nearly identical to the ones surrounding it. She stopped the car and looked at it for a long moment, battling with herself over whether or not she was doing the right thing. She knew, of course, that she was. Without waiting long enough to allow herself time to chicken out and turn the car around, she opened the door and stepped out onto the street. She was doing the right thing. She knew she was.  
  
This knowledge did not make the trip from the car to the front door or 367 any easier, though. She wanted desperately to run back to her car and go straight home, but somehow, she managed to force her feet up the stairs to the house and to force her finger to hit the bell.  
  
Moments later, the door swung open, and Hermione found herself looking down at a little girl. The child looked to be about seven or eight years old, and she was dressed in overalls and a pink shirt that clashed horribly with her bright red pigtails. The little girl peered up at Hermione expectantly, her eyes narrowing as she studied the stranger.  
  
"Um..." Hermione swallowed. "Hi."  
  
The little girl didn't speak. She just continued to stare up at the woman in front of her.  
  
"Uh... Does Harry Potter live here?" she asked timidly.  
  
The child narrowed her eyes even more. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm... an old friend of his. Does he live here?"  
  
Finally the little girl nodded. "Yes, he does. He's my dad."  
  
Hermione smiled fondly. "Really? Is he here?"  
  
His daughter shook her head. "No, he's at work."  
  
Hermione was about to ask where he worked when a woman's voice suddenly sounded from inside the house. "Crystal, who's at the door?" And before Hermione could even comprehend what was happening, the owner of the voice appeared in the doorframe and stared back at her.  
  
Two pairs of brown eyes connected, and for a moment, neither woman could even speak. Finally, the mother of the little girl spoke.  
  
"Her... Hermione?"  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
Crystal was stuck in the middle of the sudden embrace the women engaged each other in. Their arms flung around each other immediately, and Hermione was quite sure she hadn't felt this happy since she'd left the wizarding world ten years before.   
  
When the women finally stopped hugging each other, Ginny pulled away and motioned for Hermione to enter the house. "Come in; come in!"  
  
Hermione entered the house to see three more redheaded children gathered around what she immediately recognized as a game of Exploding Snap. Two boys looked to be maybe a year younger than Crystal and were unmistakably twins. Another child, a girl, looked to be barely three years old and was watching her older brothers curiously.  
  
Their heads all looked up in the direction of the stranger entering their house, but none of them bothered to ask who she was. Hermione smiled at Ginny. "Following your mum's example, I see."  
  
Ginny laughed. "This is Crystal," she said, placing her hand on the head of the oldest child. "And that's Michael and Elliot," she said, motioning towards the twin boys. "That one's Alyssa," she said, and the smallest little girl grinned. "Brandon is the baby; he's down for his nap."  
  
"And another on the way?" Hermione asked, eyeing Ginny's undeniably bulging belly.  
  
Ginny covered her stomach with her hand and nodded, a grin covering her face. "All I need is two more to beat the family record."  
  
Hermione laughed and was about to ask more questions about the children when Ginny grabbed her hand and started yanking her toward the kitchen. "Let me make some tea, and then you can tell me everything about what you've been up to," she said hurriedly. "We've all been wondering where you disappeared to, Hermione. We've been worried sick!"  
  
Hermione followed the redheaded woman into the kitchen and felt a twinge of guilt at worrying the people closest to her. She sat down at the table Ginny directed her to and prepared herself for the flock of questions that were sure to erupt at any second.  
  
Before Ginny had a chance to begin her interrogation, though, several loud squeals were heard from the living room. Ginny glanced in the direction of the noise but before she could comment, a man walked into the kitchen carrying the smallest little girl on his hip. He had the same untidy black hair that he'd had ten years before, and his glasses still sat a bit askew on his nose.   
  
Hermione felt the breath catch in her throat as she watched her best friend greet his wife with a kiss. Obviously, he hadn't noticed the guest at the table yet. After pulling away from his wife's lips, he sat his daughter on the ground and turned his head, obviously wanting to see what his wife was staring at over his shoulder.  
  
The moment their eyes connected, Hermione felt as though she were finally coming home from a long trip. Neither of them could speak as they stared at each other. Hermione forced herself to stand up, but she found that working her legs was harder than she had expected. The two people looked at each other for the first time in ten years, taking in each other as though making sure the other was actually real.  
  
Finally, Harry managed to find his voice, though forming complete sentences was a completely different story. "What... Hermione... How..."  
  
She just laughed as she rushed to him and threw herself into his arms. She hugged him tightly, willing this to not be a dream. She'd wanted to hug him for so long now, but she hadn't been able to. Now that she was in her best friend's arms, she wanted to do nothing except revel in the emotions that were flooding her body. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist instantly and hugged her just as tightly. They must have embraced for a good two minutes before they were interrupted by another male voice.  
  
"Virginia Anne Weasley Potter, I cannot believe that you won't let my precious little niece have a chocolate frog before dinner. Don't you know sweets are what keep a child healthy?"  
  
Hermione's heart stopped at the voice. The breath caught in her throat as she slowly pulled away from Harry and turned her head to view a very tall, very handsome redheaded man holding the hand of the precarious Crystal.  
  
Ronald Weasley.  
  
He stopped his journey into the kitchen, though, when he noticed the scene surrounding him. His eyes fell first on his sister who was smiling fondly at something across the room, and then his eyes fell on his best friend and brother-in-law who was hugging a woman tightly.  
  
A very familiar woman.  
  
"Hermione?" he asked, almost as though he were unsure that he was really seeing what he thought he was.  
  
Hermione felt her heart leap at the sound of her name on his lips. She just stared at him, and she almost felt as though all of the air was leaving her lungs. She managed a weak nod, but she couldn't make herself speak.  
  
Their eyes locked with each other, but neither of them seemed to breathing properly. Hermione didn't run to Ron and fling herself into his arms as she had Harry. He didn't greet her as enthusiastically as Harry had, either.  
  
They just stared.  
  
And then all at once, Ron stepped to her and put his arms awkwardly around her. The moment they touched, though, it was as if they melted into each other's embraces. It wasn't the embrace of old best friends; it was the embrace of a lost love found again. Hermione reached up timidly to put her arms around her neck, and she buried her face into his chest, as though she needed to be as close as possible to make sure she wasn't really dreaming. She inhaled his scent and was not surprised at all to find that he still smelled of the same sweetish spicy scent that he had years before when they'd all been schoolchildren.   
  
"Why does everyone know her except for me?!"   
  
The voice of a little girl caused Hermione and Ron to pull apart rather quickly. A very curious-looking Crystal was staring up at her uncle and the stranger; she had her hands placed on her hips, and she was obviously very intent on getting an answer to her question.  
  
Ron laughed a little as he grinned down at his niece. Ginny suddenly appeared quite embarrassed and grabbed her daughter's hand.   
  
"Uh, Harry, can you bring Alyssa?" she started toward the door of the kitchen. "Excuse us, Hermione, but it's time for the children's afternoon lessons."  
  
Harry smiled once at Hermione before lifting the smallest girl into his arms. "We'll be back," he assured her as he followed his wife from the room.  
  
Hermione and Ron were left alone in the kitchen, and immediately, a strange silence filled the air.   
  
They once again stared at each other uncertainly. She was a bit taken with how little he had changed in the decade since she had seen him last. His hair was still a blazing scarlet, and his face was still speckled with freckles here and there; they'd started to fade in their later school years but were still quite evident. He looked to be the same height as he'd been when she'd last seen him ten years before, but he was more built. He was no longer lanky; he was a bit more muscular, but he still had the same boyish good looks he'd donned years ago.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of horrible silence, Ron spoke. "I can't believe you're really here. Hermione, where have you been?"  
  
Hermione looked down at the floor and frowned. "It's a long story," she said quietly.  
  
Ron just studied her curiously. "Well, I'm listening."  
  
She shook her head. "No, this isn't the time."  
  
Ron suddenly looked angry. "If you weren't going to tell us where the hell you disappeared to ten years ago, then why the hell did you bother showing back up at all?" His voice wasn't even the least bit friendly.  
  
Hermione felt as though she was going to burst into tears at any given moment. "Please, don't be angry," she begged quietly, not willing herself to meet his eyes.  
  
Ron actually laughed at her plea. "Don't be angry? Are you serious, Hermione?"  
  
"Ron, I had no..."  
  
She was cut off as he rambled on. "Do you have any idea how many nights I laid in bed worrying about you? I had no idea if you were alive; for all I knew, you could have been lying at the bottom of a ditch somewhere dead!" His blue eyes caught hers dangerously. "And then when I wasn't worrying about you, I was wanting you. I used to dream of you every single night. Every damn night! And then I'd wake up thinking you would be laying beside me. But you know what? You never were, Hermione. Never."  
  
Hermione felt the tears well into the corner of her eyes, but as hard as she tried, she couldn't force them to disappear. "I'm sorry," she managed to squeak as she tried to keep the tears from falling.  
  
Ron glared at her, a disgusted look on his face. "You can save the apologies for Harry and Ginny and your parents and everyone else you hurt by running away. I don't want to hear them. I don't need to hear them, Hermione."  
  
Hermione felt one thick, fat tear fall from her eye before the others followed rapidly. "Ron, please," she begged him urgently. "You have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt you! That's the last thing I ever wanted to do!"  
  
"Do you know that I loved you, Hermione? Do you know that?" He was standing very close to her now, his face more angry than she could ever remember seeing it.   
  
She nodded meekly, tears still falling freely down her cheeks.  
  
He just continued to glare at her. "You were the single most important thing in my life ten years ago. God, I would have died for you!"  
  
"I know," she whispered through her tears.  
  
"But you didn't even care enough about me to give me a 'kiss my arse' when you decided to disappear without any kind of notice!" He wasn't exactly yelling, but his voice was raised and bounding with anger.  
  
"Ron, please," she was begging him anxiously. "I couldn't tell you! I couldn't tell anyone! You don't understand!"  
  
"And you won't even give me a chance to," he stated quickly. "But you know what? I don't care anymore. I'm glad you're alive because at least Harry and Ginny can stop worrying, and your mother can stop lighting that damn candle for you every night. Yes, I'm glad you're alive, but I never want to see you again."  
  
Hermione stood dumbstruck at his words. How could he be so viciously cruel to her? He had no idea what had happened ten years before, and he wasn't willing to give her the time she needed to sort out her thoughts enough to put them to words.   
  
He was so damn selfish!  
  
"Fine!" she yelled angrily. "I hope you have a nice life!"  
  
And with that, she stormed from the kitchen through the living room and to the back door. She heard Harry yell her name as she started to make her exit, but all she could do was yell an apology before running to her car and driving away from his house.   
  
Away from Ron.   
  
Away from her friends for the second time in her life.  
  
She began crying again the moment she reached her car, and she cried all the way back to her house.  
  
When she entered her own living room, she was met with Mrs. Bennett, the baby-sitter.  
  
"Oh, hello," the old woman greeted her. "The children are both down for naps, and I've left the mail on the kitchen counter." She smiled and bid Hermione good-bye before disappearing to her own house.  
  
Hermione was thankful that her children were asleep. She needed a good cup of coffee, so she made her way to her kitchen. As she pulled the filters from the cabinet, she glanced down at the stack of mail. She sorted through it unconsciously.   
  
Bills... Bills... Junk... Postcard...  
  
"Oh, my God," she gasped quietly as she stared down at the letter at the very bottom of the pile.  
  
It was addressed to "Miss E. Granger," and the seal on the back was all too familiar.  
  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.   
  
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So? Please reply!!!! It means everything!!! 


	4. Going Back

A/N: Sorry that it's taken so long to get this out, but last week I was in Cancun, so I had no time to write. But just be thankful for this because I am completely and utterly stuck on my Draco/Hermione story... I think I'm gonna try to work on it next b/c so many people are asking! Ah! I need to get unstuck quick!  
  
PLEASE review this! I thank you all who read and reviewed the last chapter! You guys are wonderful!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story except for the plot and the children.  
  
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Hermione glanced in her rearview mirror at her children. Both of them were fast asleep, and she was thankful. The rain was pounding down loudly on the car as she drove through the narrow England streets in the darkness. Her own tears were making it even more difficult to see, but she continued the drive unceasingly. The memories of the hours before kept replaying in her mind over and over like a bad song that invades your mind and refuses to leave.  
  
Tom had come home quite shortly after she had returned, much earlier than he was supposed to. He had been angry, and he had immediately demanded to know where she had been because he said he had telephoned earlier, and Mrs. Bennett had answered the phone. Hermione had stumbled around her excuses and finally managed to say that she had been shopping. He had seen through this, of course, and said that Mrs. Bennett had said she'd been in London. He'd then demanded to know what she was doing in the city, and Hermione had said she'd been shopping for new school clothes for Emileen. Tom had then requested to see the clothes, and when Hermione had been unable to produce them, he had gotten violently angry. He'd hit her right in the head at first, knocking her to the ground in a heap. He had then proceeded to kick at her in the worst way he ever had, and he yelled at her, accusing her of going to the city to see a man. He'd called her a whore and a ton of other names as she'd begged him to stop before he woke the children up. It hadn't worked. She had no choice but to cry out in pain as he continued to beat at her and yell at her until she passed out. When she had awakened, Tom was nowhere in sight, and she had known immediately that she could not risk waiting for him to return. So, she'd run upstairs to Emileen's room and gotten her out of bed after packing her a small suitcase. She'd then packed Kyle the same sort of bag and carried him out to the car. With that, she had put them both in the back and started driving.  
  
At first, she hadn't been sure where she was headed to, but after awhile she had realized that there was only one place she could go. And so her journey to London had begun. That's where she was headed now with both of her children fast asleep in the back. She was still crying, but the pain in her head had ceased to hurt so badly. She wasn't sure what she was going to say when she'd arrived at her destination. It had been only hours before when she'd shown up on Harry's doorstep prepared to face her past only to run out again. And now she was returning for the second time in one day.   
  
And she didn't know what to do.  
  
When she finally pulled onto the street that Harry and Ginny lived on, she started trying to wipe the tears on her face away. She didn't want anyone to feel sorry for her; she just needed a place to stay for the night until she could sort things out. She pulled the car in front of his townhouse and glanced once again at her children. Both were curled up against each other fast asleep, and she opted against waking them at that moment. So, she quickly locked them in the car and raced up the front stairs of the house as the rain pounded down all around her, soaking her completely.  
  
She rang the bell without even stopping to think twice. To her surprise, though, it was not Harry, Ginny, or any of their children who answered the door. It was Ron.   
  
He stared at her, and for a moment, she was afraid that he was going to slam the door in her face. He could obviously see that she was freezing and soaking wet, though, so he opened the door and motioned for her to come inside. She stepped gratefully into the house as he spoke.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
She couldn't straight away tell him what she was doing there, so she answered his question with her own question. "Where are Harry and Ginny?"  
  
Ron stared at her again. "They're out. I'm watching their children. What are you doing here?" he repeated.  
  
At this, Hermione burst into tears. She wasn't sure why she was crying, and she wasn't even sure she had a real reason to be. She was just crying, and she couldn't make herself stop.  
  
Ron looked on uneasily. It was obvious that he had no idea how to make her stop crying, and he had no idea what to do about it. Finally, he just asked her what was wrong.  
  
Hermione couldn't find the words to tell him what was wrong; nor could she find the words to tell him why she had shown up on this doorstep twice in one day. All she could do was say, "My children are in the car."  
  
Ron looked at her in shock, and several emotions covered his previously cold face all at once. "Children? You have children?"  
  
She looked down and nodded, her tears slowing gradually. "Yes. Two. Will you help me?"  
  
Ron looked as though he were going to say no, but then he relented and nodded once. He helped her out to the car which she unlocked. Ron peered in at the sleeping children, and he stared at them silently for a moment before reaching for Emileen. He lifted her easily out of the car, and to both Hermione and Ron's surprise, Emileen wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and rested her head on top of his shoulder in her sleep. Ron's eyes connected with Hermione's, and she found that watching this scene was almost too much for her to handle. So she quickly reached into the car and pulled out her toddler son. Together, Ron and Hermione hurried back into the house where they stared at each other.  
  
Finally Ron spoke. "Crystal's got an extra bed in her room for when Alyssa gets scared. We can put them there."  
  
Hermione nodded and followed Ron up the stairs to a small room at the end of the hall. She saw the oldest Potter child fast asleep in one bed and an empty bed across the room. Ron walked over to it and gently laid Emileen on it. She wouldn't let go of his neck, though, and she snuggled even tighter against him, mumbling something that neither adult could make out. Ron looked helplessly at Hermione as the little girl tightened her grip on him, so Hermione quickly laid Kyle down and turned to remove Emileen from Ron's neck. When she had finally managed to untangle the two of them from each other, Emmy's eyes fluttered open and she stared at Ron groggily.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked in a sleepy sort of voice.   
  
Ron just stared at her, and then Hermione laid her daughter down on the bed as well and said, "Goodnight, Emmy."  
  
Emileen just continued to stare up at the stranger in front of her, though, and very quietly, she said, "Who are you?" again.  
  
"Shh," Hermione coaxed her daughter back into a sleep, and when she was quite sure that both of children were slumbering peacefully, she kissed them each on the tops of their heads.  
  
Ron stood up and beckoned for her to follow him out of the room, and she did so nervously. They walked back into the sitting room where Ron turned to her and said, "How old are they?"  
  
"Kyle is three, and Emileen's ten." Hermione looked up at him.  
  
It took Ron a moment to piece the ages together, but when he caught on, he looked extremely hurt and betrayed. "Ten? So that means...." Ron just shook his head in disbelief. "So, that's why you decided to run away."  
  
Hermione knew that she was definitely about to be expected to offer up some explanations. "Ron, please let me explain," she pleaded quietly.  
  
Ron simply rolled his eyes. "Explain what, Hermione? I think the explanation of everything is sleeping upstairs in my niece's room, now isn't it?"  
  
"But you don't understand..."  
  
"Who's her father?" he asked suddenly. "You owe me that much information at least."  
  
"Ron..."  
  
But Ron interrupted her as he furiously glared at her in realization. "The hair... the eyes... MALFOY?!" Ron looked as though he could have killed her, and, for a brief moment, Hermione feared him. She soon realized, however, that Ron was not Tom and that he would never hurt her. Ron's anger quickly disappeared, and the most painful look covered his face as he repeated the name much quieter this time. "Malfoy?"  
  
Hermione didn't even have time to anticipate the tears that started to fall from her eyes as she nodded slowly and shamefully. "Ron, I'm so sorry," she managed to whisper.  
  
Ron just stared at her silently before speaking. "Why Malfoy? You could have cheated on me with anyone... but with Malfoy?" He looked as though he, too, might start crying at any minute.  
  
"It's not like that," she whispered, her eyes pleading with him for belief. "I didn't cheat on you with anyone."  
  
To this, Ron laughed a cold, joyless laugh. "Oh, you didn't? You obviously did something, Hermione. I think the proof of that is upstairs!"  
  
Hermione couldn't take Ron believing that she had betrayed him like that. It was just too much for her to handle. "Ron, he raped me!" She hadn't meant to just blurt it out like that, but she couldn't take anymore of his disgust directed at her.  
  
Ron's face immediately froze into what appeared to be a stone-cold expression of shock. He didn't even seem to be breathing for a good two minutes of deadly silence. And then all at once, Ron started to cry, too. "Hermione... I'm... I'm so sorry..."  
  
Hermione just shook her head as tears continued to fall down her cheeks as well. "Shh...You have nothing to apologize for."  
  
"But... But I had no right to be angry with you, and I was so cruel to you..."  
  
But Hermione just shook her head again. "I should have told you before I left..."  
  
"Why didn't you, Hermione?" He looked at her with sad eyes. "I would have helped you; you know I would have."  
  
She nodded. "I know... But I was so ashamed, and I just felt so dirty... And I was scared."  
  
"You were just a little girl," Ron timidly reached out and took her hand. The moment this happened, it was as though ten years hadn't passed, and they both felt as though they really were just children again.  
  
She clutched his hand tightly and prepared herself for what she knew was a dam about to burst; everything was about to come out, and she was totally ready to tell Ron everything. "I felt ruined. I knew you wouldn't want me anymore, and I didn't want you to feel obligated to stay with me for any reason."  
  
Ron looked hurt at her words, but he spoke to her gently and soothingly. "Hermione, I would never have felt that way. I was in love with you in a way I can't even explain; I've never felt that way about anyone but you. There's nothing in the world that could have made me not want you."   
  
Hermione just stared at him, and she felt emotions she hadn't felt in years flooding over her entire being. She knew that she was exactly where she needed to be, and she wasn't about to leave again. Without even thinking, she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her face tightly against his shoulder, soaking his shirt with her tears. She felt Ron's hand move to her back as he gently soothed her as he would a child; he had stopped crying, and now he was focusing all of his attention on her. They stayed like that for a few moments until Ron ran his hand up to her neck to one of the exact spots Tom had hit her on, and she gasped in pain.  
  
Ron immediately pulled away and stared at her, concerned. "What happened?"  
  
She reached under her hair and tried to soothe the pain that was burning on the back of her neck. "Nothing," she murmured quietly, looking down.   
  
Ron didn't believe her, though, and he moved her hand away and looked for himself, lifting her hair and peering at the spot. A purplish blue bruise was glaring back at him, and he studied it for a moment before turning back to her. "What happened?" he asked again.  
  
She just shook her head. "It's nothing. Really."  
  
Ron always had a way of seeing right through her, though, and he shook his head. "Just trust me. Please." Hermione was silent as Ron implored her to confide in him. It took him only a few more minutes to notice the ring on her finger. "You're... you're married?"  
  
Hermione nodded slowly. She still did not dare to meet his eyes.  
  
"Did he... Did your husband do that?" he asked in an extremely quiet voice.  
  
Hermione made no movement; nor did she give any verbal answer. She just let her tears speak for, and Ron translated them correctly. He shook his head at first in disbelief before growing extremely angry and slamming his fist onto the table beside them. Hermione jumped at the noise.  
  
"Damn it!" he shouted furiously. "Who is he?" he demanded. "Tell me because I'm going to kill him!"  
  
Hermione shook her head rapidly, though. "Please, Ron! Just calm down!"  
  
"Calm down?! Calm down, Hermione? I should have been there to kill Malfoy when he hurt you ten years ago! I'm not going to stand by while some other bastard hurts you, too!"  
  
"But I left, Ron," she told him hurriedly. "I took my children, and I left. He won't hurt me again."  
  
Ron calmed momentarily, and he stared at her seriously. "If he ever touches you again, I'll kill him. I swear to God, I will."   
  
Hermione nodded slowly, knowing full-well that he was being completely serious. Ron's wrath had been one of the main reasons she had never told him or Harry about Malfoy- besides her own embarrassment, of course. She knew that Ron would have killed Malfoy with his bare hands, and she couldn't bear to see him forced to deal with the consequences of such an act.  
  
Ron stared at her for just a second before saying, "Have you left for good?"  
  
She pondered this question for a moment. How many times had she told herself that she was going to leave? How many times had she dreamed of picking her children up and just running away? And now that she'd done it, what was to happen? She knew that Tom wouldn't just leave her alone. He'd find her and beg her to return; he'd tell her he loved her and that he was sorry. He'd tell her the same things he told her every time she threatened to run away after he'd given her the latest beating. She'd never actually done it before, though, so how would he handle it? Even if she really did stay adamant about her decision to stay away from him, he wasn't going to give up that easily- especially not on Kyle. That was what scared her the most. Tom was a powerful attorney; he knew every loophole that British law had to offer, and she had no doubt that he would be out for custody of their son. He had no legal holding over Emileen- not that he cared about that too much; he'd always been rather cold toward her daughter. No, he'd never abused her or even yelled at her too much; he'd simply always chose to ignore her. Kyle, though, was a different story. He wasn't going to allow his son and only heir to just be taken from him peacefully.  
  
Hermione relayed all of this to Ron and told him about her fears that Tom would manage to take her son from her. Ron had been so angry when she was done that he had jumped up from his place on the couch and turned to face her. "I'll be damned if he ever gets his hands on that child! Hermione, you can hide here with us, and no one will ever know!"  
  
Hermione thought it rather sweet of Ron to offer to hide her, but she knew that Tom Winston was not going to be so easily foiled. Living in the wizarding world or not, he would track her down and make her life hell.   
  
"Ron, I don't know what to do. He'll find me; I know it."  
  
At this Ron got down on his knees in front of her and took her hands gently in his. They both stared at their hands for a second before looking into each other eyes. Seriously and softly, Ron spoke. "He won't ever hurt you again, Hermione. I swear it."  
  
She didn't know why she believed him, but she did. And all the while, she was dying on the inside. Being this close to Ron Weasley was doing wonders on her self-control, and she was more than a bit surprised at this. Yes, she was more than aware that she had spent nearly every night for the past decade dreaming of the way it would be like to run back into his arms and let him tell her that everything would be alright. She wasn't going to pretend that she hadn't spent night after night in her bed thinking of the way it would feel to have him next to her, kissing her, holding her, just protecting her.   
  
But she was a married woman.  
  
Acting on these impulses would be breaking the law, and if Tom were to find out, he would certainly use this against her in court if a custody battle were to pursue. She knew she should listen to the sensible part of her brain.  
  
But he was so close... So close, and all she wanted to do was dip her head down just a few inches and capture his lips under her own. She wanted to know if actually kissing him would be as good as she remembered it. She looked into his eyes and knew he wanted it, too. He was staring back at her so intensely; his blue eyes seemed to be tearing into her soul, and she could hear his breathing pick up slightly as he moved closer to her.  
  
He was leaning up to her, and she realized it felt as though a magnet was pulling them together, as she seemed to be leaning downward. Their eyes caught each other when their lips were merely centimeters apart, and then...  
  
"We're home!"  
  
Ron and Hermione immediately pulled back from each other, and Ron stood up quicker than she would have thought possible as his sister and brother-in-law entered the sitting room together.  
  
Harry and Ginny stared at the pair in front of them curiously for only a second before Harry said, "You came back!" He seemed so happy, and he rushed forward to capture his long-lost best friend in a tight hug. "I thought you'd run away again."   
  
Hermione hugged him back, but she wasn't sure what to say. Her breathing still seemed a bit irregular after being so close to Ron. And honestly, she wasn't prepared to launch into all of her explanations again for Harry and Ginny at that moment, so she was happy when Ron saved her. She saw him whispering to his sister and heard him say, "Just hold off on the questions for awhile."  
  
Ginny nodded understandingly and placed a hand on her husband's back. "Harry, let's go check on the children," she said kindly. She turned and smiled at Hermione. "I'm glad you decided to come back," she told her in a tone that let Hermione know she wouldn't be asking any questions until the older witch was ready to talk.  
  
Hermione smiled appreciatively. Then she remembered something. "Oh! Emmy and Kyle!"  
  
Ginny and Harry stared at her, confused, but Ron explained. "Hermione's children are in the extra bed in Crystal's room."  
  
It was obvious that the fact that Hermione was a mother was a bit shocking to her best friend and his wife, but neither of them asked any questions. They just glanced at each other, and then Ginny nodded in Hermione's direction. "That's fine. We'll check on them as well."  
  
Hermione was grateful for the lack of interrogation, and she sighed a relief when the Potters headed up the stairs to kiss all of their children goodnight. When they were gone, Ron turned back to her.  
  
"Do you want to say here tonight? Harry and Ginny won't mind," he looked away quite suddenly. "Or if you want to, you can come with me. Emileen and Kyle can stay here; Ginny won't care to watch them until tomorrow. You know, I mean if you just want a bit more privacy, so you can rest better."  
  
Hermione considered the offer. Truth be told, she would be able to rest at all if she were staying in the same flat with Ron. She was sure to be plagued all night of urges and thoughts about what she wished would be happening. But the thought of staying with Ron was a lot more appealing than the thought of staying with Harry, Ginny, Crystal, Elliot, Michael, Alyssa, and Brandon; not to mention the fact that she could definitely use a night away from her own children for once. She could handle herself for one night.  
  
"That would be great, but only if you're sure," she added quickly, praying that yes, he was, in fact, sure.   
  
"It's no problem," he told her gently. "Do you want me to tell Ginny?"  
  
She nodded, "Yes, please."  
  
Ron disappeared up the stairs, and she said a quick plea that she would be able to force herself through this night in a somewhat respectable manner.  
  
*********************************************  
  
"It's a bit small." Ron turned the key in his door and turned to her sheepishly before opening it for her. "And it's probably also messier than you would like..."  
  
Hermione laughed a little. It certainly didn't surprise her that Ron's place would be messy; she knew him a little too well to expect anything different. "It's fine," she assured him.  
  
Ron nodded and pushed the door open, holding it for her to enter. She walked in and heard Ron switch a light behind her. He, the same as Harry, had obviously decided that living in Muggle London sounded appealing. She saw a television set, a radio, a DVD player, and several other Muggle electrical appliances lying around the front room. The place wasn't actually as untidy as she had expected. Rather, it simply had the look of a man's touch. At least it didn't stink.  
  
"I know it's not much," he said from behind her. "But you know, it's just me."  
  
Hermione turned around and offered him a smile. "It's cute, Ron. And it's not as messy as I would have thought," she teased. "You've obviously learned at least a few cleaning skills since I last saw you."  
  
He rolled his eyes a bit and smirked. "Funny, Hermione. I wasn't that messy, you know."  
  
This made Hermione laugh. "Oh, no, Ron. Never you." Sarcasm was present in her voice.  
  
Ron just grabbed her hand and pulled her across the room. "Shall I give you the grand tour?" he asked regally.  
  
Hermione laughed again and followed him. "Sure."  
  
"This," he said, waving to the room they were standing in, "is the sitting room. This is the couch; this is the chair; this is the coffee table; and this is the entertainment center." He pointed to each object as he explained them in an overly-exaggerated tone. He pulled her through a door and into what was obviously, "The kitchen," he supplied. "This is my favorite room, obviously. This is the table; this is the counter; this is the refrigerator; this is the stove; and this is the microwave." He turned to her at this time and said, "And I would like to ask you exactly why you never bothered to tell me how delicious microwave dinners are. I don't know how I survived for so long without them."  
  
Hermione laughed. "I'm sorry," she apologized playfully. Ron was making her feel happy and childish, and she was thrilled with these emotions because she'd felt neither in far too long of a time.  
  
"It's okay, but next time you come across such a wonderful invention, be sure to let me know."  
  
"Okay, I promise."  
  
Ron nodded and dragged her through another door. "This is the bedroom," he offered when they entered a pretty good-sized room. "Bed, dresser, and closet," he swung his hand in the direction of each item named. "You can sleep in here, and I'll take the couch." He spoke rather forcibly in this room, much less jokingly than he had in the previous rooms. Hermione found herself blushing slightly as well as she glanced around the room and her eyes fell on the bed. She knew it was silly, of course, but a thousand thoughts flooded her brain at the moment and actually made thinking rather difficult.  
  
She nodded quickly in answer to his offer and said, "Thanks."  
  
He nodded as well and motioned toward a door at the other end of the bedroom. "That's the bathroom, so if you want to take a shower or whatever, go ahead." He didn't offer to show her the inside of it; instead, he walked over to his closet and pulled out some extra blankets and a pillow. "You're probably pretty tired, aren't you?"  
  
She smiled a bit and nodded. "Yeah. It's been kind of a long day."  
  
Ron gave her a half-smile. "Yeah," he said quietly. The awkwardness between them was suffocating.  
  
They were quiet for a long moment before she finally said, "Well..."  
  
This seemed to snap him from his silence as he said, "Oh! Yeah. Well... Goodnight."  
  
She stared silently at him before saying, "Goodnight."  
  
Ron waited around for only a second before giving her an uncomfortable smile and leaving the room. Hermione watched as the door closed and she exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was suddenly very aware that her left leg was shaking in an almost twitching fashion as she turned around and looked at the bed where Ron had placed her bag. She'd packed it hurriedly, and she wasn't sure what exactly she'd thrown into it. Reaching in, she pulled out a nightgown that she'd bought the month before on one of her trips to London. It was navy blue color, and it's thin spaghetti straps and silken material made it appear much more like negligee than a simple nightgown, but seeing as it was the first thing she had grabbed, she had no choice but to don it.  
  
She really was tired, and without taking a shower, she climbed onto Ron's large bed and snuggled under the down comforter that covered it. She inhaled deeply, taking in the scent that she had recognized earlier that day when she'd hugged him for the first time in ten years. It was all too familiar to her, and she was scared. She was scared that she was not going to be able to deal with everything that was surely going to be facing her in the very near future, and she was scared that she was not going to be able to deal with her still-existing feelings for the man who was loaning her the use of her bed.   
  
With all these thoughts and fears, she drifted into a light sleep.  
  
She was awaken later that night by the feeling of someone staring at her. She didn't open her eyes, but she knew that there was the definite figure of a body beside her, and she knew that it was Ron. She was too frightened to open her eyes, so she pretended to be asleep. And when she felt his hand on her face, she was a bit afraid that she was going to stop breathing, and when she felt his lips brush against her forehead, she was sure that she was going to stop breathing.   
  
"I'm going to take care of you, Hermione."  
  
It was a simple whispered statement, but those few words were enough to send Hermione's whole heart into overdrive.  
  
This was going to be much more difficult than she had originally planned.  
  
**************************************  
  
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!! 


	5. A New Day

A/N: I am SO sorry it has taken so long to update this! I've been at a bit of a block with it, but I know exactly where I'm going now, so it shouldn't be that bad. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are great!!!!  
  
  
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Emileen opened her eyes to be shocked by the sight of a pair of green eyes staring back at her. A little girl with red hair and green eyes, smaller than she, was standing by her bed staring at her curiously. But wait... This wasn't even her bed...   
  
Where was she?  
  
She saw her little brother sleeping peacefully beside her, and she was terrified for a moment that they had both been kidnapped. She looked at the other girl timidly before stuttering a "Who are you?"  
  
The other little girl narrowed her eyes. She looked on silently at Emmy and Kyle before turning to her door and yelling a rather loud, "MUMMY!!!"  
  
Emileen stared at the door for only a second before a pretty woman with long red hair like the little girl's came rushing into the room. She had a bulging belly, and Emileen realized she must be pregnant. She looked panicked for a moment before she saw what had upset her daughter. She laughed lightly before coming over to the bed and sitting down. She pulled the red headed little girl into her lap and turned her attention to Emileen.  
  
"How are you, Emileen?" She had a very friendly sort of voice, and Emmy wasn't exactly afraid anymore. She was more just confused.  
  
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"  
  
The woman smiled warmly. "Well, my name's Ginny, and this is Crystal," she patted her daughter's head. "And I know your name because your mum told me."   
  
Emmy sat up a bit. "How do you know my mum?"  
  
"Well, we're old friends. She brought you and your brother here last night, but you were asleep."  
  
"Where is she?" Emmy was much more relaxed now than she had been previously. She wasn't scared in the least anymore, and she found that she completely trusted woman.   
  
Ginny prodded Crystal off of her lap and stood up. "Well, she went with my brother for a bit, but you can call her if you like."  
  
Emmy nodded as she climbed out of the bed. "Yes, please."  
  
Ginny grinned at her and took her hand, leading her down some stairs to a kitchen. Emileen marveled at the kitchen when she entered it. The little girl she had been introduced to as Crystal had followed them downstairs and now ran to the table and threw her arms around a dark-haired man who was sitting at the table with two boys, another little girl and a baby. All of the children had the same red hair that their mother did, and Emileen privately found this a bit funny.  
  
All of the people at the table looked up when Ginny and Emileen entered the kitchen, and all of their eyes fell on the strange girl staring at them. Ginny held onto her hand tightly, and Emmy was secretly thankful because she was just a tad nervous. "Emileen," Ginny said sweetly, "These are Crystal's brothers and sister." She pointed at each child as she named them, and Emmy tried to store all of the names into memory for future reference. "And this is my husband, Harry."  
  
The man turned and grinned at her, and almost instantly, Emileen was hit with a realization. "I know you!" she exclaimed excitedly.  
  
"You do?" The man raised his eyebrows at her curiously.   
  
She nodded quickly. "Yeah! My mum's got a picture of you and some other boy, but you're a lot younger there!" She turned suddenly to Ginny. "And the other guy has red hair! Is he one of your sons?"  
  
Ginny laughed and grinned at her husband. "No, he's my brother- my older brother," she added for further emphasis.  
  
Emileen shrugged. "Oh. But still! I know you!"  
  
Harry laughed and nodded. "Well, I guess you do."  
  
"Who is she?" One of the twin boys asked suddenly. Emileen was pretty sure that his name was Elliot.   
  
"This is Emileen," said Ginny to her children. "Her mother is the lady who was here yesterday," she explained. Emileen didn't know her mother had visited the day before, but she assumed it made sense since she'd been left in the care of that crazy old Mrs. Bennett.  
  
"Is she a Muggle?" the other twin asked curiously.  
  
Emileen wrinkled up her nose at the question. She didn't know what a Muggle was, but she was pretty sure that she wasn't one. At least, she didn't want to be one; the word sounded a bit offensive.  
  
Harry shook his head at his son and said, "Hush, Michael."  
  
"Here, let's call your mother," Ginny said, leading her to the phone. She dialed a number and held the phone to her ear. "Ron? Hi, is Hermione there? Emileen wants to talk to her... Okay... Yes, fine... Alright." She held the phone to Emileen.  
  
Emmy took the phone and held it to her ear. "Mum?"  
  
"Hey, sweetheart," her mother's voice came back. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. But what's going on?"  
  
"Honey, I'll explain everything later. I'll come and get you in a little while, but right now just know that you don't have to be scared, okay?"  
  
Emileen rolled her eyes. "Mum, I'm not scared. I'm not a baby."  
  
Her mother laughed. "Okay, well make sure your brother's not scared, okay?"  
  
"He's still asleep, but yeah, alright, I'll take care of him. But hey, mum?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Emileen crossed her fingers. "Do I have to go to school today?"  
  
"No, not today. You don't have to go to school. It's okay."  
  
Emmy was more than a bit shocked; her mother had never once given in that easily. "Okay!"  
  
"I'm going to go, okay? Be good for Harry and Ginny, alright?"  
  
"I will."  
  
"Good. I love you."  
  
"Love you, too."  
  
"Bye, Sweetie."  
  
"Bye, Mum." Emileen heard a click and handed the phone back to Ginny who replaced it on the hook.   
  
"Would you like some breakfast?" Ginny pointed her to a chair which Emmy gratefully took.   
  
"Yes, please."  
  
Ginny handed her a plate with scrambled eggs, a bit of bacon, and a slice of toast. She then set a glass of orange juice in front of her. Actually, it was rather good cooking, and Emmy was secretly pleased that she had awaken in this house.  
  
This was turning out to be fun.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Later that morning, Emmy found herself outside with Crystal, Michael, and Elliot. Kyle had woken up, but was now being fed breakfast inside with the two younger children. He wasn't scared at all, and Emileen was actually quite proud of his bravery.  
  
The three Potter children (as she had learned was their surname) were playing a game of Hide and Seek, and Emmy was watching them quietly from the porch in their backyard.   
  
Suddenly, Crystal ran up to her with her two younger brothers in close tow. "Do you want to play or what?" asked the girl with a loud, bossy voice.  
  
Emileen looked at the younger girl carefully before shrugging. "I guess so."  
  
"Good!" Crystal looked extremely pleased. "You can be on my team- we're going to play Quidditch. Alyssa has a broom you can use, but it might be a little small."  
  
Quidditch? Emileen raised her eyebrows and quietly asked, "What's Quidditch?" in a timid voice so that she wouldn't appear quite so obvious.  
  
"I told you she was a Muggle!" Michael exclaimed once again. "I knew it!"  
  
"I am not!" protested Emileen quickly. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. "I'm not a Muggle!" She still had no clue as to what a Muggle was.  
  
"Oh, no?" challenged Michael's twin, Elliot. "Then why don't you know what Quidditch is?"  
  
Emmy didn't know what to say, so she just said, "Well, I've just never heard of it before. But I am not a Muggle!"  
  
Crystal eyed her carefully, as though she were sizing her up. "How old are you?"  
  
"Ten," answered Emileen, although she wasn't sure what importance her age was.  
  
"Are you going to Hogwarts next year?" Crystal queried.  
  
Hogwarts? Hogs didn't have warts... "Um... Yeah, I am." She figured lying was as good of a tactic as anything. "Are you?"  
  
Crystal rolled her eyes. "I'm only eight. Of course, I'm not."  
  
"She probably doesn't even know what Hogwarts is," said one of the twins haughtily.  
  
Crystal shot her younger brothers a death glare. "Shut up, Elliot," she said warningly.  
  
"Make me, Crystal," the little boy dared.  
  
Crystal shrugged. "Fine, I will!"   
  
And with that, she shoved the younger child to the ground and made a serious move to punch him before he screamed so loudly that Emileen was sure the neighbors would be running over to inspect.  
  
The yell brought a panicked Ginny running from the back door of the house. She rushed to her children where she proceeded to lift her daughter away from her son and jerk her around. "What is going on?" she demanded.  
  
"He was making fun of her!" Crystal exclaimed, pointing at a very shocked Emileen. "He was calling her a Muggle again!"  
  
Ginny gave her son a disappointed look. "Elliot, it is not nice to tease people, and you know that." Then she turned to Crystal, "And you know better than to hit your brother," she added sternly.  
  
"I didn't hit him!" Crystal protested loudly.  
  
"You tried to!" shot back both of the twins at the same time.  
  
Ginny held up her hands to stop the brewing argument. "Everyone back inside right now." Her three children stare at her pleadingly, but when she didn't relent, they all trudged into the house reluctantly.  
  
Once all of the other children were inside, Emmy pulled on Ginny's sleeve. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
Ginny smiled at her. "Of course."  
  
Very timidly, Emileen asked her question. "What's a Muggle?"  
  
At this Ginny laughed and ran a hand over the blonde's hair affectionately. "That's something you'd better ask your mum."  
  
***************************************** Earlier that morning...  
  
Hermione awoke feeling very warm and very content. She was confused to her surroundings for only a moment before all of the memories of the previous day came rushing back to her. She'd actually done it; she'd actually taken her children and went back to the people she'd been missing for an entire decade.   
  
Back to Harry and Ron.  
  
And now she was in Ron's bed awakening from what was definitely the most peaceful sleep she'd had in months. She remembered how kind he had been to her the night before, and she smiled briefly at the memory. And he'd been in the room watching her sleep during the night.   
  
And he'd promised to take care of her.  
  
Hermione sat up reluctantly and stretched her arms out to her sides. Glancing to her right, she glimpsed a reflection of herself in a mirror over his dresser, and saw that her hair was much bushier than normal. Yes, she remembered being out in the rain the night before, and she had opted for bed rather than a shower when she'd arrived at Ron's flat. She was in dire need of shower, so she begrudgingly left the warmness that Ron's bed offered and walked to the bathroom across the room.  
  
As soon as she'd opened the door and entered, though, she gasped. Ron was standing in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a towel and brushing his teeth. He turned around when she gasped and grinned at her. "'Ornin," he managed through a mouthful of toothpaste.  
  
She felt her cheeks growing hot as she stared at him dressed in nothing but a fluffy piece of white material. She immediately took in his chest which was much more muscular than the last time she had seen it. His arms, too, were rippling with muscles, and he looked as though he'd been working out every day of his life.  
  
Smiling sheepishly, she stuttered. "Uh... I'm sorry... I didn't realize you were in here."  
  
He shrugged before turning to the sink and spitting out the excess toothpaste. "It's no problem. I'll get out of your way."  
  
She shook her head, "Take your time. Please. I mean, I don't want to impose."  
  
To this Ron just shook his own head. "You're not imposing. I need to get dressed anyway."  
  
Hermione couldn't help but realize what a disappointment this statement was. She pushed this thought quickly from her mind, though, and smiled graciously at him. "Thanks," she said quietly.  
  
Ron just grinned. "It's nothing, Hermione."  
  
God, why couldn't she just get her irrational thoughts under control? She was definitely not going to lie to herself and pretend that she didn't have serious lingering feelings for the redhead in front of her. She'd wanted him and only him for ten long years, and now she wasn't sure at all as to how she was supposed to go about battling all of those feelings.  
  
Actually, she wasn't at all sure that she wanted to battle those feelings.  
  
She pushed this thought as far into the back of her mind as she could manage and stepped toward the sink to brush her own teeth. At the exact same moment she had stepped forward, though, Ron stepped away from the sink toward the door. With the sudden movements in each other's respective directions, the two adults were suddenly face to face with each other- or rather face to chest, for Hermione was quite a bit shorter than he was. After a moment of looking straight ahead, Hermione finally tilted her head up enough to look at his face, and she was immediately met with the piercing blue-eyed stare she remembered perfectly. In their last few years of school before they'd finally admitted their feelings toward each other, they'd engaged in this very same stare hundreds of times. A shiver ran up Hermione's back at the memory.   
  
Swallowing, she smiled up at him nervously. "Sorry," she barely whispered.  
  
Her voice brought him out of whatever reverie he was in, and he nodded slightly before moving away. He watched her move to the sink, and she saw him staring at her in the mirror. He caught her glance, smiled nervously, and slipped out of the bathroom  
  
Hermione knew she was in for more than she was willing to deal with.  
  
**************************************  
  
"What is so funny?" Hermione was asking a very giggly Ron Weasley after she'd hung up the phone with her daughter.   
  
He was giggling, yes giggling, so hard that he couldn't do anything but shake his head.  
  
"What?" she demanded, her hands finding their ways to her hips.  
  
Ron gasped for breath before finally managing to tell her what was so amusing. "Did you really just tell your daughter that she didn't have to go to school? YOU told someone they didn't have to go to school?!"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes; she should have figured out what was so damn funny. Twenty-eight years old, and Ron Weasley was still finding ways to tease her. "Oh, shut up," she told him, shaking her head.  
  
Ron found this funny, too, and he just grinned at her. "I never thought I would see that day. Honestly, I can't believe Emileen didn't protest- I'm quite sure she loves school, right?"  
  
"Actually," Hermione said haughtily, "she hates it. She tries to fake sick every single day."  
  
Ron seemed beyond surprised by this. "Wow. Are you sure she's your kid?"  
  
She just rolled her eyes yet again. "You're so hilarious, Ronald," she told him sarcastically.  
  
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Strange stopping point, but the next chapter is going to be emotional, so I didn't want to overlap the humor and the angst. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!! 


	6. Catching Up on the Past

A/N: THANKS to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I hope you guys like this one!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, of course.  
  
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"So, we have a ton of catching up to do." Hermione sat down on the couch in the sitting room after returning from an early lunch in the kitchen.  
  
Ron nodded and joined her on the couch. "Ten years worth."  
  
Hermione glanced down at her hands a bit shamefully. It was because of her that they had ten years to catch up on. "Sorry," she muttered.  
  
He just shook his head, though. "It's fine. Tell me what's been going on with you. Do you live totally in the Muggle world?"  
  
Hermione looked up and nodded just a bit. "Yeah. I don't really do much except watch Emmy and Kyle. Before I got married, I had a job at a restaurant, but I haven't worked since then…" Her voice trailed a little.  
  
Ron looked as though he was going to say something, but he obviously thought better of it.  
  
"What about you?" she asked, hoping to change the subject. "What have you been doing?"  
  
Ron grinned at her. "Wouldn't you like to know?"  
  
She laughed. "Yeah, that's why I asked."  
  
"Well, I bet you never thought Harry and I'd make it through Auror training together, did you?"  
  
"You're an Auror?" She smiled genuinely. "That's great!"  
  
"Yeah," he was still smiling. "Most of the time it's great anyway. Sometimes it's really tiring. But you should have guessed- how did you think Harry was supporting a family of five, soon to be six, kids?"  
  
Hermione laughed and answered him. "I honestly thought maybe Quidditch…"  
  
"Are you serious?" Ron laughed with her. "He's too involved in turning Crystal and the twins into star Quidditch players to play for himself anymore. Since Crystal's birthday is in September, he has this wild idea that if she can make it onto the team in her first year, she'll break his record as the youngest player in a century." He shook his head. "Yeah… He's becoming a bit obsessed." His eyes were laughing, though.  
  
"Is she any good?" Hermione really wanted to know everything she could about what had transpired in the decade since she'd left.  
  
Ron nodded. "Oh, she's really good! Best seeker that age I've ever seen! The twins are pretty good, too. They make better chasers, though."  
  
"Well, I'm sure McGonagall will be pleased." She then thought of a better question, though, and said, "She's still at Hogwarts, right?"  
  
Ron nodded. "Yeah. It's pretty much the same as when we left. Bill's two oldest go there, and so does Percy's oldest. You remember them, right?"  
  
She did. Bill had gotten married in their fifth year and had two children- a boy and a girl- by the time they graduated. Preston and Elisabeth. Percy had gotten married to his long-time girlfriend Penelope in Harry, Ron, and Hermione's sixth year, having a son in their seventh- Thomas.  
  
"All Gryffindors?" she asked curiously.  
  
"Of course. There's never been a Weasley that wasn't." Ron looked quite proud of this fact.  
  
Hermione looked down at her hands. "Emmy got a letter yesterday," she said quietly.  
  
"From Hogwarts?" Ron smiled at her. "That's great!"  
  
But Hermione shook her head. "She doesn't know."  
  
"Doesn't know that she got her letter?"  
  
Hermione shook her head again. "No, she doesn't know that she's a witch. She doesn't know any of it."  
  
Ron's eyes widened just slightly. "None of it?"  
  
"No." Hermione's voice was quiet. "I tried to hide her from it."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because I was scared for her. I didn't want Malfoy and all his Death Eater buddies to come take her. That's why I ran away in the first place…"  
  
Ron placed a soft hand on her back, causing a tiny shiver to run up her spine. "He's dead," he said, even more quietly than Hermione had spoken.  
  
She looked up. "Malfoy?"  
  
Ron just nodded.  
  
"But… but how?"  
  
"His father had him killed." Ron glanced down at his own lap. "A year after graduation…"  
  
Shocked was not an adequate enough word to describe Hermione's reaction to the news. "Why, though?"  
  
Ron shrugged and looked back up at her. "I don't know all of the details."  
  
Hearing this made Hermione ask the most important question. "Whatever happened with… with everything?"  
  
"With Voldemort?" Ron said the name as though he'd never shuddered at the sound of it. Hermione nodded carefully, and he continued. "A few months after Malfoy got killed, there was a huge battle, and Dumbledore sent Harry and me to the center of it. It was scary," his eyes darkened at the memory, "but we got through it. And I guess there really is a God because we both made it out alive. The final battle was between Voldemort and Dumbledore, though, and not Voldemort and Harry."  
  
"And Dumbledore won?" Her eyes were watering slightly, though she had no idea why.  
  
Ron nodded. "Yeah… We saw it all happen."  
  
"I should have been there," Hermione finished softly.  
  
He just looked up at her silently, choosing not to comment on her statement. "But everything's fine now."  
  
She nodded slowly. "Hogwarts is safe?"  
  
"Safe as it ever was," Ron said with a shrug. "You are letting Emileen go, right?"  
  
He had touched on the very subject Hermione had been struggling with. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I… I don't know how to tell her…"  
  
"I'll help you," he spoke up quickly. "I mean, I'll help you explain everything to her. Surely, she won't be anymore shocked than you were when you first found out, right?"  
  
Hermione grinned slightly, remembering the moment her own letter from Hogwarts had arrived. Her parents had been more than shocked, but Hermione had finally understood all the strange things that had been happening to her. It'd been a blessing to finally find out that she wasn't just a freak who could make things happen without even meaning to. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she admitted finally.  
  
Ron locked his eyes with her and caught her with a grin. They're eyes stayed attached to each other for a few moments, both smiles slowly fading as they stared at each other intently.  
  
"I can't believe you're finally back," Ron said quietly. "I've missed you so much." His voice was full of nothing except the utmost seriousness.  
  
Hermione was affected more than he could possibly know by his simple words. She had been waiting to return to him for as long as she could remember, but she had finally done it. She'd finally gone and returned, and she was never, ever going back. She knew that right then and there.  
  
"I've missed you, too,' she admitted, just as quietly.  
  
Ron looked at her silently for a long moment. Finally, he spoke again. "Please don't ever leave again." His eyes were as pleading as his voice.  
  
Tears formed in the corner of her eyes, and she shook her head solemnly. "I'm not, Ron."  
  
Time seemed to stand still as the two of them sat on the couch just staring at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking and both praying that it was the same thing they were thinking. Hermione had been dreaming of a moment like this for years.  
  
"Hermione…" Ron's voice was soft and gruff.  
  
She raised her eyebrows just slightly at him. "Hmm?"  
  
"I know that you're married…" his voice trailed slightly. "You don't… love him, do you?"  
  
Her eyes broke from his, and she immediately looked down at her lap. Shaking her head slightly, she answered him quietly. "No. I never did."  
  
"Hermione?" he asked again, showing no response to her answer.  
  
She looked up at him, her breath catching slightly in her throat as she saw the look on his face. "Yes?"  
  
Quietly, barely audibly, Ron leaned forward and softly whispered, "Can I kiss you?"  
  
She felt something in her stomach flutter, but determining what it was would be too difficult of a task as she stared into his blue eyes. The same blue eyes she'd never stopped dreaming of for years. Not saying a word, Hermione nodded slowly.  
  
Ron leaned forward even more, and she could feel his warm breath on her face. A million tiny memories flooded her mind- a million tiny memories of moments exactly like this one. Taking it upon herself to close the remaining distance between them, she leaned forward and softly pressed her lips to his.  
  
It was as though ten years hadn't happened- as though they were still seventeen kissing in the back of the library. All of the memories were so right. They all proved what she already knew- he was the only person she'd ever want to kiss.  
  
Ron's hand found its way to her cheek, and he stroked it softly as his lips stroked hers just as softly. It was Hermione who deepened the kiss, parting his lips with her own and slowly sliding her tongue into his mouth. His other hand snaked to the back of her head, and he let it slide gingerly down her neck, causing her to shiver slightly. Her breath was growing more ragged as she struggled to lengthen the kiss for as long as possible, but eventually the need for oxygen took over, and they reluctantly pulled apart.  
  
They stared at each other in shock for only a moment. The shock being over the fact that one kiss could spark so many memories, so many thoughts, so many desires in a person. They each knew that all these things were being shared with the other, and this revelation was enough for each of them to forget that things had ever ended between them and make them want to start right where they'd left off.  
  
"Ron…" Hermione spoke, finding her breath slowly. "I… I…"  
  
Ron shook his head, silencing her search for words. "It's you, Hermione. It's always been you." He whispered the words quietly.  
  
Hermione could barely breathe. Without thinking, she pressed her lips to his for a second kiss. This one was deeper and more passionate than the first one had been, and it took them no time at all to get caught up in each other. Kissing Ron was like finally finding home again. Hermione wasn't sure why the analogy entered her head, but it had. And she trusted it.  
  
She was home.  
  
Ron Weasley was all she'd ever needed. Why hadn't she realized it before?  
  
Her arms circled his neck as she pulled him closer in an attempt to deepen the kiss even more. His own arms curled around her waist, one of his hands stroking her back in rhythm with the kiss. Her body was lighting on fire with every passing second, and she instantly knew that she was getting in too deep.  
  
But bloody hell, she didn't care.  
  
She couldn't believe how fast the kissing got out of control, and she was shocked to suddenly find herself half-reclined on the couch with Ron's body damn near close to covering hers. Her whole body was tensed, and she couldn't quite believe that she'd gone ten years without feeling this. She never wanted to stop kissing him.  
  
Of course, breathing is a necessary part of living, so they were forced to pull apart. Hermione could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to calm herself down a bit. Ron was breathing heavily, and he locked his eyes with hers in what had to be the most smoldering look she'd ever witnessed. He was staring at her with a look that was melting her insides, and she didn't even think twice about saying exactly what her head was screaming.  
  
"Ron…" She did, however, have to draw in a breath in order to find her voice. "Make love to me…"  
  
The blue in Ron's eyes deepened to a dark shade of navy as he stared at her. He didn't speak for a long moment, his eyes pouring into hers. Finally, in a voice that was little more than a whisper, he said, "Are you sure?"  
  
She nodded, absolutely positive.  
  
"You're married…" Ron took a slow breath as he said this, the serious expression never faltering from his face.  
  
She didn't want to think about anything except for the moment they were in. Raising a finger and pressing it to his lips gently, she said, "Shh… Just be here with me… right now."  
  
He was silent for another long moment before pressing his lips to her finger and kissing it softly. She felt her breath catch just a bit, and she slowly dragged the finger down his chin and to the center of his neck as he leaned in to kiss her once again. It was the sweetest and most tender of kisses. Hermione could have died in his arms.  
  
She shifted just slightly so that she was lying completely, and Ron moved with her, never breaking the contact that their lips held with each other. They continued to kiss, and Hermione's hand slid from the front of his neck to the back, pulling her to him even more than before.  
  
Suddenly, though, Ron pulled away and sat up.  
  
"This isn't right," he said quietly.  
  
How could she have been so stupid? Hermione felt her heart drop, but she sat up and nodded timidly. "I'm sorry. I just thought that you wanted…" She looked away, not finishing her sentence, realizing how silly it sounded. Of course, he didn't want what she wanted; she'd broken his heart ten years before.  
  
But Ron shook his head rapidly. "No, no," he reached for her hand. "I do want to. God, you have no idea how much I want to…" His voice trailed, and he raised her eyebrows at him. He gave her a very small smile and continued. "I've dreamed of making love to you more times than you could imagine."  
  
She felt her heart lift slightly. "Really?"  
  
He just nodded. "So many times… And it has to be perfect." He finished earnestly, his eyes locked with hers.  
  
"Oh, Ron…"  
  
"I want it to be everything you've ever dreamed of. Everything I've ever dreamed of." As Ron spoke, Hermione felt herself falling fast. "I'll make it perfect." She couldn't even think of anything to say. Her heart felt as though she'd finally found everything she'd ever been look for. Ron kissed her lips softly and said, "If Harry and Ginny will keep you children tonight… Will you stay with me?"  
  
She bit her lower lip unconsciously and simply nodded.  
  
Ron finished with yet another soft kiss and a promise. "It will be perfect."  
  
*********************************************  
  
No Emmy, I know. But this part was meant to be serious- I hope it was. Please leave feedback! 


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